


Have you seen...?

by decayingIncentive



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Honestly just 1000 words of happiness, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decayingIncentive/pseuds/decayingIncentive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Tumblr prompt sentence: “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”</p>
<p>Simon misplaces things. Usually, it's not so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have you seen...?

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me about Jimon on my [ tumblr ](http://sparklesthewarlock.tumblr.com/)

Simon’s totally not panicking. Okay, maybe he’s panicking a little. A tiny amount, really, completely negligible in the grand scheme of things, he’s fine. He’s fine.

(He’s not fine.)

Clary had teased him for years about the chaos that was his life, how he seemed to have an uncanny ability to misplace things and never find them until someone else pointed them out to him. Sometimes it really is funny, like when he forgets that he’s holding the pencil he’s looking for (or when he stepped into the shower with his glasses still on. Repeatedly. It was finals week, he’s not to blame for that one) or not so bad, when he misplaces small, inconsequential things. An eraser in the fridge, a shirt wedged under his mattress. No big deal in the long run.

Other times? It’s bad. Really bad.

Simon curses under his breath as he flips the couch cushions; maybe it had wedged itself into the crack in between them? No, it’s a bit too big to fit, he figures, and he would feel it if he sat on it, like the springs in the couch they used to own. (His butt still feels sore from the very thought, and not in the fun way.) He briefly considers moving the couch, but that would make too much noise, and if there’s one thing he really doesn’t want to do, it’s to alert Jace to what he’s currently doing. Their neighbors probably wouldn’t be happy either if he started moving furniture at nine in the morning on a Saturday.

That said, why is he even up at nine on a Saturday? Is it a side effect of growing up? Fuck, he feels old just _thinking_ about that. But, well, he does have a stable job, and lives with his long-time partner, and is planning on-

Nope, not thinking about that until he _finds_ it.

There’s nothing in the kitchen, or in the other corners of the living room, and slowly but surely, Simon is starting to panic. (See? Didn’t panic before. It started just now. He’s fine. Everything is alright. He’s not being a massive idiot right now.) (He really, really is.) He stands there for a moment, thinks, hazards a look towards the bedroom. If he’s lucky, Jace is still sleeping. Or maybe he’s seen it and hasn’t realized what it’s supposed to be? Clary leaves small jewelry boxes around sometimes, it’s not much of a stretch, right?

He looks around one last time, then heads for the bedroom, eyes still combing the ground as he enters.

“Jace, have you seen the… Oh.”

He looks up, and there Jace is, holding it. He’s still in his briefs, and his face is doing that weird thing where it tries to smirk but also show honest emotion at the same time. Simon hates that look, it confuses him.

The morning light streams through the windows, hits Jace’s body to illuminate the flat planes of his body, set fire to his hair, still mussed from sleep and flopping over his forehead. Usually, Simon would cherish the sight, step towards him and trace all these tattoos with his mouth, and he’s tempted to do just that, but there are more pressing matters.

“Uh, could you. Could you give that to me? That’s one of Clary’s things, she asked for it back,” Simon says, and tries his best to appear like it’s the truth. He’s always been a shoddy liar, but maybe the early morning is on his side here – Jace is always a bit slower on the uptake before his first cup of coffee.

But luck doesn’t seem to be on his side today, because Jace narrows his eyes and looks at him, the kind of stare that has Simon feel like he’s naked and bared to the world, even though he’s the only one dressed in this situation. It feels oddly intense, and he picks at the frayed bottom of his shirt. (Laundry day shirt, and a well-loved one at that. Jace hates it, so Simon loves to wear it. It gets the undressing part done quicker.) They stand there for a while, while Jace is apparently trying to figure out if he’s telling the truth.

Simon attempts a grin as a sign of his trustworthiness. It doesn’t seem to come across as very trustworthy.

“You know,” Jace begins, focusing on flipping the little box over in his hands, “I sure hope this isn’t supposed to be Clary’s. Or is there something you need to be telling me?” His voice is quiet, but there’s a half-grin on his face, and Simon knows he’s not serious. (Jace hasn’t felt threatened by Clary in a long time, at least he tells him that. He still feels like he should remind him that his feelings for Clary are long gone.)

Jace looks up, then, and the unrestrained hope in his eyes takes Simon’s breath away. He takes a step closer, then another one. “It’s not for Clary,” he says, then stops when he’s face-to-face with Jace. Their toes are almost touching.

“It’s for you. Obviously. If you want it.”

Jace looks at him for a moment, then breaks out in the most dazzling grin. Not even the sun behind him could do him any justice – he seems to be glowing from the inside out, and Simon falls in love all over again.

“This,” says Jace, as he flips the jewelry box open, “is the worst proposal of all time.”

“Well, it would’ve been better, if you hadn’t botched it…” Simon grumbles that last part, but nevertheless leans into Jace, soaking up the warmth of his body for a moment. “I had a whole thing planned, you know. Romance-movie-levels of awesome.”

“Would there have been horses?”

“Obviously.”

“You’re the worst, Lewis.”

Simon looks up then, with a grin, just in time to see Jace remove the gold band from the box and slip it on his finger. It fits perfectly – of course it does, Simon hadn’t spent all that time agonizing at the jeweler’s for no reason – and he thinks that the man had never looked as beautiful before. He thinks that every morning. Jace calls him sappy, but he _knows_ he loves it.

Jace tosses the box on the bed, watches it bounce once, and draws Simon into a kiss.

It’s the best kiss of his life so far, but then again, he might be biased.

“You love me, though.”

“Obviously.”

 

(A few minutes later, Simon yelps as he box digs into his spine. Jace laughs at him – what an awful fiancée.) (Simon requests they break up.)

(Jace ignores that.)


End file.
